


Living in a Dream World

by thatlittleblogger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hallucinations, Hurt, Losing his Grace, M/M, Thriller, Time - Freeform, angel - Freeform, cas, collapse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatlittleblogger/pseuds/thatlittleblogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester finds Cas collapsed outside the bunker, completely battered, covered in ugly bruises - and missing his Grace. The brothers discover that Castiel has been cursed and the only way to break the curse is for him to stay awake for 48 hours, dealing with the vivid and disturbing hallucinations that the curse offers him along the way. If Cas wants to survive then he can't go to sleep, otherwise the 'timer' will reset and the hallucinations will come back stronger. As Cas slowly begins to lose himself and forget who he is, there's only one option that the brothers have left - but naturally, it's comes with a hefty price to pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living in a Dream World

It was 4pm and Sam closed the lid of the laptop with a click. The day had dragged on and no matter how hard he had rifled through the newspaper articles online, he still couldn’t find a case.  
“Found anything yet, Sammy?” Dean Winchester appeared next to his brother’s desk, his mouth half full of yesterday’s cheese and pickle sandwich that he’d bought from the gas station about a mile away from the bunker.  
“Nope,” Sam sighed, leaning back against his chair. “Nothing”.  
Dean grunted in reply, returning his attention back to his sandwich. He took another bite.  
“Hey, have you seen Cas in a while?” Sam asked. Castiel hadn’t made an appearance since their last case a few days ago, which the brothers found rather odd. Usually, when they weren’t working a case, the angel was just poking around the bunker. But neither of the boys had heard the tell-tale shuffling of footsteps or the crashing of one of the chairs being tipped over that signalled Cas’ clumsy arrival.  
Dean grunted again and shoved the rest of his sandwich back in its greasy wrapper and looked up towards the ceiling. “CAS? Come on down”.  
They waited. Nothing happened.  
“Cas? You there?”  
Still nothing.  
“Huh. Maybe he’s working his own case”. Sam offered, only to have Dean turn and look at him with disgust.  
“What, are you kidding me?” Dean said. “Really?” Sam shrugged and held his hands up in defence.  
“Just a thought”.

An hour passed since Dean had tried calling for Cas, and Sam had eventually decided to give up the search for a new case and instead settled down on the couch with a beer in his hand.  
He was bored. Castiel hadn’t appeared, Dean had gone out and there was no research that needed to be done because there was no case that needed to be solved. He sighed, sinking back into the cushions of the sofa. Sam knew that he should be enjoying the solitude and the calm while it lasted – Dean certainly was – but there was something lingering in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  
Sam drained the last of the beer from the can and groaned as he pulled himself up from the sofa, heading towards the stairs. Tossing the empty can into the bucket that was currently serving as their bin, he took hold of the banister and was just about to take to the stairs, two at a time, when he heard a scratching sound coming from behind him.  
He stopped and turned his head to the sound, straining his ears. The scratching was very quiet and inconsistent, but he could now make it out more clearly; it was the distinct sound of fingernails being dragged along wood. Sam turned on the bottom step of the staircase, releasing the banister from his white-knuckled grip and took a step towards the door that lead to the desperately overgrown front garden of the bunker. He slipped his right hand into his back pocket, his fingers grasping the handle of the small silver blade while he reached out for the stiff iron handle with his left hand. Despite being a hunter, Sam still felt on edge during times like these. Taking a shaky breath, he steadied himself, and flung the door wide open.

* * * 

As soon as Sam’s eyes met the figure on the other side of the door, he dropped his knife and stumbled forward.  
“Cas? What happened to you?” Sam practically yelled the question as he dropped to his knees next to the battered and bruised angel who was half-slumped half-propped-up against the wooden frame surrounding the steel door. Castiel’s dark hair was matted with dried blood, with trails of crusted red staining the right side of his face. His complexion was an unhealthy shade of white and he had an ugly black and purple patch forming around his left eye. He’d clearly been fighting – and lost.  
“They t-took…my Grace”. Castiel’s gruff voice whimpered, and he turned his head away from Sam and spat blood onto the gravel beside him. “They took my Grace”. Cas coughed, choking on his own words as he fought to spit them out like he had with the blood.  
Sam brought two of his fingers to Cas’ wrist, checking his pulse. It was weak. Cas was apparently human now, which meant that he wouldn’t heal that quickly…or at all. But the wounds didn’t look to be too deep and there didn’t appear to be any gashes anywhere else. Without hesitation, Sam leant forward and ran his hands across Cas’ body as he searched for signs of broken bones. The fragile man moaned at the pressure of Sam’s hands, and was already closing his eyes as he drifted into unconsciousness by the time Sam looked up at his face to check that he was okay.  
Sam rocked back on his heels from his crouched position, his eyes flooded with concern as he looked down at Castiel. The angel had had his Grace ripped from him, and Sam knew from his research into the winged creatures that Cas must have suffered deeply in the process of it being taken from him.  
Sam swallowed, though his throat was dry and scratchy like sandpaper. How long had Cas been laying out here? Pushing the unpleasant thought to the back of his mind, he reached across and grabbed Cas under his arms and pulled him up. Castiel’s head gently fell forward onto Sam’s shoulder as he backed the two of them up against the wall, quickly sliding one arm around Cas’ waist and the other underneath his knees as Sam pressed against him, forcing the unconscious Cas to stay more-or-less upright before pulling the limp angel up into his arms and carrying him inside the bunker.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! Check back regularly, as the next chapters are on their way shortly!


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